


through and through

by languageismymistress



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Abandon House, Childrens games, M/M, Mentions of Death, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/pseuds/languageismymistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Listen to the children play, round and round running all day, when they stumble, come to fall, here is where they take you, teeth and claw</p>
            </blockquote>





	through and through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JQ (musicmillennia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/gifts).



Listen to the children play, round and round running all day, when they stumble, come to fall, here is where they take you, teeth and claw. For the game sake, one must play, enter the through the gate and out the other way. In through the house, door to door, don’t let him hear you, no whisper at all. He likes the shadows that dance on the wall, he can hear your heart beat from down the hall. No man have entered and exit the same, all missing limbs and pieces, none with a name. No one can hear him come and sneak, the last thing that’s heard is a loud bang and shriek. The game is played by the brave and young, for this is the house where he was hung. Rope to neck he swung from the rail, no man was caught for the murder most foul. 

 

Enter young Mardon, foolish but brave, he knows of the tale, he would rant it and rave. He knows the storied, thinking them all but hush, he can survive the House of Hush. The name is the reason for the game, do not speak at a word unless it’s his name. He likes people to dance and play, he is young at heart innocent and naïve. He winces as the door slams shut, no out from this but through and out. He keeps to the wall, his heart on his sleeve, was this folly and wander or his body wanting to heave. He felt the air thicken a sign of him close, he needed to get moving, as quiet as a mouse. Legs to wood he starts the pace, this is what it loves, the thrill of the chase. 

 

He moved through the corridor into the first room, the light above flickers and darkness looms. He keeps his heart steady and readies his call, for here he whispers “Barry,” and his mate comes through wall. He smiles and stares over the ghoulish figure that was once a man he knew, more than society could linger. Barry is young in the face that was still, the rest in the grave where he was buried under the mill. His body hungered for the warmth of another, his annoyance grew deadly and the count higher. 

 

“I’m here now, my love, no one can split us,” Mardon promised with words of truth. 

 

“I need you more than I need myself,” Barry whined, his lips trembling. 

 

His wail was one that was heard in the night, it gave all who heard it an awful fright. It was that of missed love, anguish and pain, Mardon knew it well, it would echo in the rain. 

 

“None of that, I am here for you,” Mardon reached out but Barry did cowder. 

 

“How do I know that this is not one of his tricks?” The man that he spoke of was the one who had split. Left the echo in Mardons heart and Barry for dead, the pain in his heart and axe through Barrys head. That’s why he strands, with skin and skull showing, his blood through the halls, but none of it flowing. His figure distorted, blueish in tint, his hands black and blue, all that was the hint. His killer known to only Barry, Mardon had been at a loss of how to get to Harry. He took in his figure, hatred ran through his veins, for the man who did this, Barry covered in pains. His fingers were broken, nails to claws, his feet red with blood, soaked to the core. His rib cage came through the skin once there, his green eyes dark and broken brown hair. His face taunt, covered with pus, there was no one alive who would survive what he must. His body had been broken, Mardon did see, he held onto his mind, as he lost all sanity. He remembers the cuffs, the walk to quick, into the cell, nothing but brick. Innocent til guilty was the game, this was one he lost, no mention of name. "Barry," He mumbled to himself at night, listening to the lightning that came in plight. The sound of his lover, bound to this place, the gallows called to Mardon and he walked there with haste. Protest the verdict he did not, one good thing came as he swung by the knot. 

 

“I am you, you are me, in this life and the next for eternity,” Mardon moved close, Barry stood still, there was not a word spoken, no beat left to kill. 

 

“The problem with dying is that it leaves its mark,” Mardon lifted his head, the neck cut sharp. 

 

“He did this, I will kill them all,” Barrys anger burned, his skin crawling with red. 

 

“Hush now my love, it is you and me left,” Mardon clasped onto his shoulder, being able to hold him at last. 

 

“I will burn them and kill them, inch by inch,” Barry made promise, on that he would keep.

 

“Later my love, for one rest, you and me together again, later we’ll pest,” Mardon made promise to himself and dear Barry, that he would know of pain, the man called Harry.


End file.
